The Sweetest Thing
by MelanyeBaggins
Summary: When good pranks go bad- Elladan and Elrohir strike again!


The Sweetest Thing:

The little brown sparrow flitted through the air, finally coming to rest on a slender branch. It nipped restlessly at its feathers as it sang a cheerful song, somewhat befitting the bright spring day. How could this little bird know that its high, clear song would cause so much trouble? After all, it was by pure chance that the particular tree branch, on which this particular bird decided to perch, was swaying gently in the breeze just outside the window of the second son of Elrond. It is not as if blame could have been lain on the bird for this.

The sweet chirping of this particular bird had disturbed Elrohir, who until this time had been quite absorbed in his studies. Once absorbed, the younger twin was quite harmless and even docile, but unfortunately the damage had been done. He looked up. 

He saw the happy creature perched just outside his window and sighed heavily at the injustice of it all. Here it was, a gorgeous day in the early spring with happy little birds everywhere, and he was stuck inside. He! The son of the Lord of Imladris, practically a Prince in his own right, and here he was confined, caged in his room doomed to study about the misadventures of his ancestors, seemingly until all the good weather had gone. And there sat the little bird, happy, singing, mocking him. It was pathetic. 

With a long suffering sigh, a gesture long-practiced from his father, he stood. Stretching his stiff muscles, he sauntered over to the window and leant heavily on the frame, watching the bird and feeling increasingly jealous of its freedom. He cautiously reached for it, but this being a fickle sparrow, flew off in search of other elves to disturb. Elrohir sighed again and steeled himself to get back to work, but just as he was about to turn away he heard laughter in the courtyard below. It was Lindir and Erestor.

"But I do not see why you can not write it yourself, Erestor, you are always writing letters!" Lindir laughed. 

"Yes, but this letter is not from me," said the advisor. Elrohir caught what looked like a smirk on Lindir's face. 

"Of course not, it is from that maid, Elwen?"

"Elwairen," Erestor corrected. 

"Yes, of course it is. And why can she not write her own letters?" Erestor looked around as if others may be listening before responding. 

"It is supposed to be a secret letter," he said, "and if Lord Glorfindel recognized her handwriting it would...not be well."

"And if it were in your handwriting?" asked the harpist.

"That definitely would not be well." Lindir nodded knowingly and sat, taking out a piece of paper and a small inkwell and quill. 

"So what does the fair lady Fearwen-"

"Elwairen."

"- want to say?" Lindir finished with a smirk. Erestor sat beside Lindir and sighed, looking up as if remembering.

"'My dear Golden Warrior,'" he began. Lindir raised an eyebrow, but wrote the sentence. "'Long and lonely years I have spent, watching you from afar. Your love is as unattainable as the stars of Varda, or the Silmarils of Feanor.'" 

"Oh, this is good," Lindir muttered as he wrote. Erestor spared a moment to glare at his friend before continuing.

"' - yet I pine for you still.'"

"Not 'long?'"

"What?"

"'Long' instead of 'pine'? In a love letter, wording is everything."

"I am simply repeating the words of the lady Eldwarin," Erestor said impatiently.

"Elwairen," Lindir corrected, voice filled with mirth. Erestor glared at him, but continued.

"'Surely you were formed by Illuvatar himself, for never have I seen a form more fair than-'"

"'Fairer?'" Lindir broke in. Erestor growled low in his throat and continued.

"' - fairer than yours. Your eyes shine like the clearest summer's sky, and your hair, the color of the finest honey-'"

"Honey? Are you - uh, is she sure? I always thought it more like the color of daffodils. Or sunshine." Lindir snapped his mouth closed at the deadly glare he received from the Chief Advisor.

"Are you going to write or are you going to talk?" he hissed. Elrohir heard the desperate apologies of Lindir as the door to his room opened behind him. 

"Good afternoon, brother!" he heard behind him. Elladan waltzed forward to see what his twin was so interested in out the window. Elrohir made room for him on the windowsill as they watched the letter-writing drama below. 

"Poor Lindir," Elladan giggled. "Who, may I ask, is to be the recipient of such endearments, brother?" Elrohir grinned.

"Why it is to be our very own Seneschal," he replied. " 'tis a secret love letter from a maid by the name of Elwairen."

"I know of none in Imladris with that name," said Elladan.

"Nor do I," said Elrohir. The two considered the implications of this fact for several moments. "This 'Elwairen," he continued after a pause, "did you know she believes that old Glor'finny has hair 'the color of the finest honey'?" Elladan's eyebrows disappeared into his dark hair.

"Really?"

"Yes," he went on, "Lindir was not convinced. He thought honey to be much too dark for our seneschal's hair."

"Did he now?" Elladan wondered with a smirk.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Does father look hideous in purple?"

Down below, Erestor and Lindir looked up from their task as they heard giggling float down from the twins' room. Erestor rolled his eyes and sighed, "now what are they up to?"

That evening the two sons of Elrond stayed up late discussing their newest plot. They would, of course, have to make sure Lindir was present to make the final judgement on color, and Erestor would be there for pure amusement. 

"I think perhaps Adar should not be present for this particular surprise," said Elrohir. 

"A most wise judgement, brother," Elladan agreed. "Father would be most displeased - wasting all that honey, after all!"

"Wasting? When so much fun is to be had with it?"

"True. 'using'? would that be a better word?"

"Much."

"So how would this be accomplished?" asked Elladan. This caused a long moment of silent thought. How indeed? Then slowly a smile, an absolutely wicked smile, creased Elladan's face. 

The next morning the twins put their plan into action. While Elladan set up, Elrohir was studiously keeping an eye on the others, making sure they were redirected around his brother's activities. By noontime they were ready and so the two met and exchanged information.

"So," said Elrohir, "how is the...device?" Elladan's wicked little grin returned.

"Planted," he confirmed. "And our target?"

"Completely oblivious."

"Good. Father?"

"Still in his room."

"Excellent." As he said this, the topic of their conspiracy walked by. "Ai! Lord Glorfindel!" The golden elf turned gracefully in their direction, a delicate eyebrow arched in curiosity.

"Yes, what is it, my friends?" he asked lightly. The twins looked at each other. Something has put him in an awfully good mood this morning...

"Father wishes to speak with you," said Elrohir. Glorfindel's gaze rose to the house behind them, specifically to the window of the Lord in question. 

"On such a fine morning? Whatever could he want?" he protested. However, he bowed slightly to the two elflings, voiced his thanks at the information and left. The twins looked at each other, and wordlessly set about their tasks.

They had to be quick, since Glorfindel would arrive at their father's door momentarily. Elrohir ran to find Lindir and drag him up the stairs while Elladan followed their Seneschal up the stairs to keep an eye on the progression of their plan. 

"I tell you, Erestor," said Elrond while the two sat in his study. "It is so hard to find good help these days." They had been sitting at his desk all morning going through rosters while a gentle breeze flowed in through the window. It was calm, peaceful.

"Why is that, my lord?" asked the advisor dreamily. Elrond regarded his aide for a moment. He had been acting rather strangely all morning, smiling at nothing, quite lighthearted compared to his usual serious self. The Lord shook his head and continued.

"All I ask for is rose petals for my bath. Is that such a hard thing?" Erestor listened sympathetically with his head cradled in his hands. "With all the rose bushes in Imladris, how is it that I cannot have this one luxury?"

"Hmm," the advisor muttered, "I would gladly find you some rose petals if it meant being outside for a few minutes. The rosters can wait."

"That they can, mellon nin," Elrond agreed. "You would do that for me? I could just send one of my sons to get them for me..."

"No, that's alright," said Erestor, "I wish to be outside anyway. I will be back before you even realize I was gone!" he declared, rising from his seat and fetching a basket from a nearby table. He left through the side door of the room, leaving Elrond alone to plod through the year's reports. 

Several moments later Glorfindel reached the top of the stairs. Walking down the halls and sniffing at the fresh air from the open windows, he finally reached Elrond's door. He graced its surface with a few short knocks. From a distance away, Elladan watched anxiously as the rather precarious looking jar of honey teetered above the doorframe with each knock. He looked down the hall for his brother, but did not see him yet. Before he had more time to muse on this several things happened.

Glorfindel, having noticed his untied shoelace had backed up and crouched in order to fix the problem. As he was tying the thin cords, the door opened and Elrond stepped partway through the frame. The jar of honey ceased to be precarious and toppled off the door, landing square on the ebony hair of the Lord of Imladris. At that very same moment, as Glorfindel was getting to his feet, not only did Elrohir and Lindir arrive from the other end of the hall, but Erestor came running with the basket of flower petals. Seeing an opportunity that should never be passed up, Glorfindel tripped the advisor, sending a cloud of pink and red petals flying through the air to land onto the now-sticky clothing of the unfortunate Elrond. 

Everyone froze for several seconds, as if trying to decide how they should react. Elrond just stood still as stone, disbelieving what had just happened while the others looked on. Elladan and Elrohir looked at each other, jaws dropped open in shock. It was Erestor who dared laugh, trying desperately to hide his giggles behind the now empty basket. Elrond looked up at his advisor, then to the others in the hall, still quite still. His eyes met Glorfindel's, who bore an expression of veiled mirth.

"Yes?" he asked, as if he had merely opened the door. That single syllable broke the cautious silence and Glorfindel, Erestor and Lindir could no longer hold back their laughter. Elrond bore the sound with a sigh, but then caught sight of his sons cowering in opposite ends of the hall. 

"I suppose you two had nothing to do with this?" he growled. They hung their heads in shame, although gleeful smiles lurked just below the surface. They knew they were in deep trouble, but it was still funny. Glorfindel strode forward to stand nearly nose to nose with Elrond.

"Oh, do not be so hard on them, Elrond," he said, raising a hand to pluck a honey-soaked rose petal from the lord's hair. He grinned wickedly at him as he promptly popped the flower in his mouth. "I have heard that honey does wonders for your hair." Elrond stared at the golden elf for a minute before low chuckles began to erupt from him. Without explanation he turned back into his study and closed the door, and only then did he laugh out loud. The others smiled at their lord's odd behavior before turning themselves and leaving the hall, thinking it best the twins face their father's wrath alone. Elladan and Elrohir, finding the hall safe, came out of hiding to stare dumfounded at the door. 

"OW!" cried Elrohir as his brother punched him in the arm. his hand came up to cradle the hurt as he glared at his twin. "What was that for?"

"You said he was in his room!"

"No, I said- " he paused, thinking back, and then his face dropped. "Oh."

"We are in a lot of trouble," Elladan muttered at the door. 

"It was funny though," said Elrohir. They looked at each other and could no longer control their giggles. After a moment they decided it best to make a discreet exit in case their father should choose to exact revenge. As they walked to the door at the end of the hall Elrohir asked his brother, "so what do you think we should do next, brother?"

"I do not know," he replied. "but Glorfindel did ruin our plans...."

End.


End file.
